Daily rants, raves, and regurgitation of my weird life as a writer/mom/small dog technician, foodie, and movie nut.

June 28, 2015

Milestone day today. Went to the grocery store for the first time in months. Posted this on Facebook:

For months before my surgery driving had become an anxiety-ridden ordeal because guess what? When you feel like you're going to faint all the time, driving is a total nightmare.Today I went to two places driving my car by myself. I know, you're thinking "big deal, Dee" but it actually IS a big deal. I had not driven my car for about 6 weeks. I didn't drive for a couple of weeks before the surgery because I felt so bad, then I wasn't allowed to drive for two weeks after my Pacemaker surgery, and then when that was over I got sick with a sinus infection and didn't want to drive. Then I drove but only with Michael in the car with me. Today I ventured out on my own. No anxiety attack. No nervousness at all. Hallelujah! It may be a while yet, however, before I venture onto I-285...

Of course, I forgot about half the stuff I needed and I have to go back in a day or two, but so be it...

I am very happy the Supreme Court has made marriage equality a reality. I have very dear friends who are gay, and gay family members. It's simply time to let everyone enjoy the benefits of marriage, and not discriminate. I am so sorry Christians are all freaked out about it but I really don't understand why. Heterosexual marriage is not under attack. Churches don't have to perform gay weddings. It's simply about fairness.

I love the South and I am proud to be Southern. However, the Confederate flag is very upsetting and a symbol of hatred and fear to many of my black friends. It shouldn't fly in public places. It belongs in museums. Let's not upset people unnecessarily.

June 25, 2015

I am always amazed when history is viewed as HISTORY -- set in stone, immovable, inarguable.

History is simply a backwards view of a complex thing -- actual life. LIFE is messy and weird and nobody really understands it, except arguably God.

However, I agree with and admire this quote:

"The more you know about the past, the better prepared you are for the future."

Theodore Roosevelt

A friend of mine wrote not long ago on Facebook of a chance encounter he had with actor/director Ben Affleck. They were in an airport, I think, in Eastern Europe, and struck up a conversation. Affleck was extremely kind and chatty and my friend -- who isn't easily impressed by celebrity -- was impressed.

I have spent many hours happily fascinated by a PBS show called Finding Your Roots. I don't know why the genealogy of strangers intrigues me so much, but it does. So I was dismayed to read that when Ben Affleck was on the show some months back, according to the Washington Post, and researchers uncovered an ancestor who was a Georgia slaveowner, they omitted that from the broadcast.

I am happy to see this:

"PBS will delay the next season of the show until its producers implement several staffing changes. They will be required to hire a fact checker and an independent genealogist, and will withdraw Affleck’s episode from all forms of distribution."

However, what I'd prefer to see is the program about Affleck WITH the embarrassing ancestor footage restored.

Affleck wanted to fashion his personal history to show he is descended from a long line of people who fought for social justice. "Researchers did turn up plenty for the actor-cum-activist to be pleased about: a mother who was a member of the Freedom Riders, an ancestor who fought in the Revolutionary War."

According to Wikipedia, Affleck attended college but never finished. I imagine he has some insecurity about that. College teaches a person to think critically, to analyze.

I also think college [usually] gives a person the confidence to ignore other people's opinions. Affleck shouldn't care what anyone in Hollyweird thinks about his ancestors. I never sit around worrying what other people think of me. I am who I am, and if someone thinks badly of me because I have family members who did awful things in the past, then that just illustrates their ignorance.

I recently wrote a blog called My Family History. I was delighted to see connections to notable figures like Thomas Jefferson and George Washington, and even Queen Elizabeth II. None of them were [or are] perfect.

Do any of those connections really matter to me, to my life, right now in 2015? No, not really. Jefferson and Washington were slaveholders. Can I change that? No. If I could magically travel back in time I'd love to try and change that fact, but obviously I cannot.

If you read the Wikipedia article I linked to it mentions that Affleck and his wife bought a house near Savannah last year. OMG -- slaveowners might have lived in it! Call somebody to come in and clean up the bad karma!

"Affleck and his wife, Jennifer Garner, often vacation at their home on Hampton Island near Riceboro, about forty-five minutes south of Savannah. Affleck bought the home nearly a decade ago and has been clear about his love for coastal Georgia since filming the 1999 film "Forces of Nature" in Savannah."

Savannah is a lovely and historic city. It has a past that includes slavery. (In fact, one of Affleck's ancestors was the sheriff of Savannah.) Should the entire city be burned to the ground as a result? Of course not. It has evolved.

Like another very historic and beautiful city, Charleston, Savannah is not a static, dead place.

Like most everyone else, I was horrified, of course, by the Charleston church murders last week. I was heartened, however, that the city has not turned into a place of rioting and looting, like Ferguson and Baltimore. Charleston's response to the tragedy has been very different.

"...thousands of people gathered on either side of the city's iconic Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge and marched across in a showing of solidarity and healing. Underneath the more than 2-mile span with towering cable supports, dozens of boats gathered and blew their air horns in support, while cars honked as they passed on the bridge."

Those people were black and white and all races. Those people were peaceful. They were mourning, not rioting. [see photo below]

So here's what I'd like to say to Ben Affleck, if I could.

Ben, we are probably related because most of my ancestors have been in Georgia for many generations. Your decision to own a home in Georgia tells me that you realize that this is a beautiful place, filled with loving and kind people. There are evil people, too, of course, and crazy ones. However, as a state we have evolved over the generations. We have learned. We aren't perfect, but we do learn.

I hope and pray a hundred years from now my great-grandchildren will realize that yes, I've done some stupid and regrettable things. No, I've not been as kind and Christ-like as I should have been. However, I have pushed myself to learn, to be better, to understand, to try and make the world a little better.

We can celebrate the past without worrying that it defines us now. We have that right, and that responsibility. Don't deny what happened. Just go forward with energy and faith, to keep learning and trying to evolve.

This was Charleston, after the murders last week -- ironically this photo is from the British Daily Mail:

June 24, 2015

Well there's nothing like an early morning encounter with a large bug to get one out of bed and jumping around.

And screaming.

Mother and Michael sleep so soundly they didn't hear me scream.

So at 6:30 this morning I was awake and fixing to get up and I feel something on my left shoulder. I brush at it, half asleep, then I feel something on my head.

Then I awaken fully and realize it's a bug.

I jump out of bed and turn on the light. I see nothing. I pick up the pillow. A palmetto bug [large roach] skitters across the bed.

That's when the screaming happened.

I looked around for my volume of Shakespeare [complete works] because NOTHING kills a giant roach like Shakespeare. The book weighs 5 lbs., at least.

Couldn't find it. Grabbed a trade paperback by Jodi Picoult. Slapped it down on the bed, where buggy was hiding under the covers. Didn't phase him. He skittered out and jumped on the floor and made for the corner where I couldn't reach him.

By that point I was shaking. My heart was racing.

I forced myself to go in the bathroom and drink some water. I spot my flyswatter in the bathroom. I briefly consider trying to get buggy out of the corner, but there is a large, heavy chest there and I don't think stressing out my heart any further is a good idea.

I forced myself to get dressed and walk Lola. The heat and humidity here make walking a dog even mid-day quite uncomfortable. So I'm trying to complete her walk by 7:30 a.m. Then I have to get Mother up and dressed and make her breakfast. I also am trying to water my vegetable gardens in there somewhere.

So I sit in my bedroom and work all day now, and I will be hyper-vigilant all morning, paranoid that buggy will try to jump on me or run across my feet or -- God forbid -- be spotted flying around. Yes, they fly.

I called our pest control guy and his wife assured me he would be here around lunchtime, his last call of the day before they go on vacation. I nearly cried, I was so relieved. He sprayed not long ago but the heat and lack of rain drives them indoors.

I do not fear many things, including roaches. I just DON'T LIKE THEM!!!!

June 21, 2015

This is a bittersweet day for me, because I am thinking about my dad all day. For those of us who have lost our daddies, it's a tough day.

I will admit that I used to sort of dread Father's Day. Finding a gift for dad was difficult. He had a million ties.

He loved to read. If I could find him a book by Lewis Grizzard, it was great. From the New York Times, Grizzard's books:

He was also the author of about a dozen books, with quirky titles like "Elvis Is Dead, and I Don't Feel So Good Myself," "Don't Bend Over in the Garden, Granny, You Know Them Taters Got Eyes," "Shoot Low, Boys -- They're Riding Shetland Ponies" and "Chili Dawgs Always Bark at Night."

Dad was a lot like Grizzard. A lot of his views were not politically correct. He was a good old boy in a lot of ways, although he spent most of his career as a banker.

He liked to hunt and fish. I enjoyed fishing with him, and I could clean a fish expertly before I learned to read.

The only time I went hunting with dad, we were both upset by the end of the day. I didn't really want to kill birds, and Dad got tired of me whining about needing to go to the bathroom all afternoon. I was 12. I spent a lot of time sitting in the car reading a book.

My brother was taken hunting by dad, and I was mighty jealous. Dad and I didn't have any fun activities we could do together, when I was small.

I was telling a friend last night, movies became the father/daughter bond we shared. Dad liked movies anyway, so he started taking me to movies around the mid 1970's. Sometimes my brother came, sometimes not. After Bruce went off to the Army in 1977, it was usually just me and Dad.

I remember seeing the movie MacArthur, in 1977, when I was 15. Dad loved that movie. As soon as he bought a VCR that was one of the movies he bought. He also loved Patton. I think I learned critical thinking at a young age because I remember knowing that both men were pretty flawed individuals, and my dad's hero worship of them was, well, odd.

I wanted to be close to Dad, and if that meant watching the news with him every night and only talking during the commercials, well, so be it.

I learned a lot about history, particularly military history, to please him, but also because I found it fascinating. I took a military history class my freshman year in college and aced every test, blowing the curve for all the guys in the class, who couldn't stand me as a result.

My dad was a great storyteller. His parents died when he was in his 20's, but all my life he talked about them and told great stories about them. Unlike most kids who never meet their grandparents, for me they were vivid characters in dad's stories. I also had oil paintings in the house that my uncle had painted, so their faces were very familiar.

below, Thompson and Cordelia and I think Bobby, early 1950's

My dad had a great sense of humor. My mother has often said that one thing that made their high-stress marriage bearable was that she and Dad could always find something to laugh about.

Dad had a very finely-tuned sense of right and wrong. He always said to me "You've got to do the RIGHT thing. Not the easy thing. The RIGHT thing." He always stressed that in all our dealings with anyone, Bruce and I must be honorable. He lived that, too, from going the extra mile for his customers, to helping out neighbors, to being unfailingly kind to everyone.

He adored children. He changed diapers, bathed us, fed us, took us to the doctor. He was a very hands-on dad. He spent hours on the floor playing with us. He organized games for all the kids on the street. Every child who came to see us at the lake was taught to water ski.

Dad was a very family-oriented person. He adored his brothers. He organized a lot of family reunions, both large and small. He adored his nieces and nephews, and they adored him. He took them fishing, and water-skiing, and told stories of growing up with their dads. They all came to see him before he died, to say goodbye. When my cousin Terri visited Dad for the last time and told him she loved him, I had to leave the room because I just broke down. Even the memory of it now makes me tear up. [below, a 1974 reunion in Atlanta with all Dad's brothers and their kids]

When I was a senior in college and Dad was 52, he had a heart attack. I remember vividly seeing him in the hospital and feeling tremendous grief, because he had always been such an energetic, vital man, and suddenly he looked helpless and old. I think I instinctively knew he was not going to have a long life. He died twelve years later -- of cancer, not heart issues. During those 12 years he was in and out of the hospital several times.

When my brother is here, especially during Thanksgiving and Christmas, and Dad is of course absent, it still feels a bit weird, even 18 years after his death. Bruce reminds me of Dad in a lot of ways, even though their personalities are very different.

I dream of Dad often. Usually we are with family, at the beach or in the mountains, and Dad's presence seems natural and normal.

Regardless of his death, I feel him around me all the time. I hear his voice in my head a lot. This is the legacy of great fathers -- their love sticks around, even though they can't.

June 17, 2015

There's been very little of interest to report in the last couple of days. The heat [95 yesterday, 96 today] has required the usual yearly adjustment. I avoid leaving the house between 2 and 7 if at all possible. Since I work from home now that's easier to manage.

Secondly, I make sure all my veggies and flowering plants are watered every day. I am already harvesting cucumbers, tomatoes, and a few squash.

I also drink lots of water throughout the day.

Even Lola understands the importance of hydration. She has been drinking her water bowl dry several times a day.

Walking her is a challenge. I have to walk her in the morning. Michael took her for a short walk last night when it was a bit cooler, but around 8 last night it was still quite hot, upper 80's.

I feel a little guilty about complaining about the heat. After all, this is HOT-Lanta. However, people up north are allowed to complain about winter cold..

I laughed so hard this morning when I saw this clip of Jimmy Fallon and Jeb Bush. I have no idea who I will vote for in 2016 but this is a hoot:

June 13, 2015

I have lived in the South my entire life and I will never live anywhere else. Visit, yes, but not live. I've been to New York, Chicago, Dallas, London, Moscow -- all great places to visit. However, the South is the only place where I feel really comfortable.

I've never shoveled snow and I don't plan to ever go anyplace where it snows a lot, in winter, ever again. Saw enough of that in Russia and Kazakhstan.I'll take my once yearly snow flurry here in Hot-Lanta and my sticky hot summers over the icy climes up north any day...

I digressed. What I really wanted to do was comment a bit on 45 Things Only People Who Grew Up in the South Will Understand. First, I admire her for coming up with 45 items to list. I suspect it was easier since she doesn't actually live here any more. You see something far more clearly when you get some distance from it.

Secondly, while there were a very few stereotypes in there, she pretty much avoided being offensive, bless her heart.

So here are some of her items, with my comments in blue. The numbering got fouled up from the original article but you get the idea.

You understand the peace and serenity that only the rustling branches of a Weeping Willow can bring. Actually, my Mamaw said weeping willows were death harbingers so I don't care much for them.

You know the feeling of peeling your sticky skin bit by bit from the boiling leather seats of a car in July. I remember plastic seats in cars as a kid, not leather. Never saw a leather seat until I was grown. Don't seats get hot in the north??

You know, with absolute certainty, that anything can be fried, eaten, and enjoyed. This is so obvious I wouldn't have thought to include it. My father made us fried grits once -- fabulous.

Honey, sugar, dumpling, pumpkin, and sweetie pie are usually not referring to food. I refer to people I am especially fond of as "Sweetie" and my nickname as a child was "Doll" so wait - in other parts of the country they don't say these things? Children AREN'T told to "Come give mama some sugar?!" Astonishing.

You understand the feeling of complete and utter satisfaction when successfully getting a big drop off the end of a honeysuckle. Never did this as a child. I was raised by a world class germaphobe. Drinking out of the garden hose was as crazy as I got..

You know that good food is even better when combined with other good food to make a casserole. My father didn't like "casseroles." We would have them, but they were called something else. Mom was clever about it.

Talking to complete strangers in public is not weird - in fact, it's just good manners. You nod and smile when you pass folks on the street. You chat with the checkout clerk at Kroger. You say Hi just to be nice, even to people you don't know. Nobody else does this but Southerners??! Mama was right. We DO have better manners than most Yankees...

Speaking of manners, you were grounded multiple times as a kid for forgetting your "yes ma'am"s and "yes sir"s. Um, nope. I rarely forgot my M'am and Sirs because I didn't want to get sent to my room. I was saying M'am and Sir almost as soon as I could talk. I think ALL children should do that. It's just respectful.

Telling off other people's kids when they're pitching a fit is acceptable. Absolutely. If a child can't behave they need to be taken HOME. I was in a movie some years ago and some trashy idiots let their 2 year old run all over the theater screaming. After 20 minutes, unable to hear the film, I got up and told the manager and he threw them out. They were ruining the movie for everyone. It was a grownup movie, The Firm - don't take your toddler to a movie like that if they can't behave.

You or someone you know reached true Southern Belle status when they got dolled up for a debutante ball. Lots of white dresses, lots of antiquated rules. One of the most heated arguments I've ever had with my mother was over the fact that if we had stayed in Augusta instead of moving to Knoxville, I would've been a debutante. Um, hell to the NO. Not this tomboy. I would have had to be forced at gunpoint to do any type of debutante activities. Not me at all. Ditto for being in a sorority or joining the Junior League. Sorry Mom, you didn't raise a "ladylike little girl" you raised a hellion...

You know that all BBQ is not created equal. Do NOT, under any circumstances, get Texas and Carolina BBQ confused. Forget Texas and Carolina. The only decent barbeque is in Georgia. I won't hear any arguing about this. Barbeque was sacred to my dad and it's sacred to me..

You never, ever forget to write a thank-you note after attending a social gathering or receiving a gift. Yep, I always try to send a note. These days, it's often an email but I think that counts...

What the hell is a remote control? Pass me the clicker or the changer, or don't pass me anything at all. We often just call it the clicker or the TV thing. Why get all technical.

The struggle of craving Chick-fil-A on a Sunday is so real. I always crave Chick-fil-A on Sunday. Lord, forgive me..

You don't realize how strong Southern accents are until you move somewhere else. Sorry, was that darn? Dern? Dernit? Yankees are unable to cuss colorfully and it's such a shame, bless their hearts. Dadgummit is a perfectly good word...

Fried chicken and waffles were sent from heaven straight to the South. I've never had fried chicken and waffles.Never heard of this combination until a few years ago when I was watching Food Network. I think it's more common in the African American community. I would be happy to try it though!

You know that no matter where you are in the world, if you run into a fellow Southerner, you've got a true friend in them. Why yes, of course. Duh. When I was in Russia adopting my daughter I ran into a couple from Alabama and we became instant friends. In contrast, I was in Moscow alone, on an adoption trip some months later, and I ran into a Canadian woman in a department store. Delighted to meet someone who spoke English, I tried to chat with her. She acted like I was an escaped mental patient. Yikes.

I will never claim that the South is a perfect place. We have issues, just like any other area, but this is HOME.

I was watching a program last night about folks buying homes in Montana, on HGTV, and I admired the beautiful country out there. I wouldn't live there, though. Probably couldn't get decent barbeque anywhere and everyone had weird accents...

this is the house where my daddy grew up... wish I could afford to buy it back...

June 11, 2015

Today is the third week anniversary of my pacemaker surgery. Recovery is slow but steady. I try to do a little more each day, to push myself a bit more. I am not sedentary.

I go up and down the stairs about 6-10 times a day, just in the normal course of the day. I walk Lola for short distances several times a day. I prepare 3 meals a day, most days. I also work at the computer 8-9 hours most days. So I actually have a really active life. By 8 most nights I am really tired.

The only really annoying aftereffect of the surgery is that I get tired more easily than usual. I also am more sensitive to the humid heat that is such a part of life in Georgia in the summer.

Michael worked all day yesterday and I thought he might be too tired to walk Lola when he got home, so when I finished work at 5, I took her for a short walk. I got just a couple of houses down the street, and here came a family with two dogs. Pregnant mama holding leashes for two dogs, and Dad pushing a stroller with a toddler. I've seen this family before. Well, Lola wanted to rush over and make friends. I struggled to hold her. I always discourage her interactions with other dogs because I fear a fight, even though 99% of the time she is just wants to be friendly.

While I struggled to hold Lola, who was barking maniacally and pulling with all her strength, I knew I was going to lose her. I hollered at the daddy to please come take her leash and he came over and took it, quick. Thanks be to God. He then led her over to get acquainted with his dogs, a pug and a little mutt, who were being very good. I asked him if he could please walk with me to the house to get Lola inside. By then I was gasping -- a combination of nerves and heat, I'm sure.

He was very nice and walked over to the house with me. Turns out, he sells medical equipment. He knew the surgeon at Northside who put in my pacemaker! Small world.

I had to come in and sit for a while to catch my breath and calm down.

Then Michael came in from work and I told him what happened. He was mad at Lola. He did take her to walk, though, for a little bit.

We had some thunderstorms yesterday which is a great thing, since that means I don't have to water the gardens today. My gardens are growing well but there are a lot of yellow leaves on all the plants. I think that is caused by too much water but I'm not sure.

June 09, 2015

I am always dismayed to see Christians acting in a very un-Christian way and so I was really disturbed to see Rev. Billy Graham's son ranting about moving his accounts from Wells Fargo because of a commercial.

I saw this commercial for the first time recently and it made me cry, because it's so beautiful.

There are a number of reasons why Graham's stance and hateful words are so disturbing to me.

First, very few people are willing to adopt a child over the age of 2 -- less than 5% of adoptions are of older children.

Second, of those older child adoptions, an even smaller number are of handicapped children.

The commercial depicts a loving couple adopting a deaf child. Does that sound to you like "a tide of moral decay," as Graham said? It doesn't to me.

In Graham's view only traditional Christian couples are fit to be parents. So he would keep a lot of children in orphanages or foster care, because that's "Christian"?

I know several single moms who have adopted children who were disabled. So Graham thinks those kids would be better off in orphanages or foster care? I also know loving gay couples who have adopted. Their children are healthy and thriving.

The idea that gay couples "recruit" is ridiculous and not true. You can't "recruit" someone to be gay. It's hardwired.

"I just don’t think a fair-minded reading of the Bible would correspond to the central place (and threat) Graham gives homosexuality. The people who have to answer for the weakening of marriage in American society are overwhelmingly heterosexuals, including professing Christians, rather than gays. And when speaking about God’s judgment on America, why is homosexuality at or near the top of the list of offenses while indifference to the poor, not caring for the stranger and alien in our midst, vanity, self-righteousness, our idols and the counterfeit gods we create, a judgmental spirit and avarice are left off? Surely Graham knows that the greatest hostility that occurred was between religious leaders and Jesus, not those viewed as outcasts and sinners."

I am going to pray that Franklin Graham will come to understand that preaching hatred is NOT in line with the teachings of Jesus.

June 07, 2015

Yesterday was June 6th, the anniversary of D-Day. I saw two mentions of it on Facebook -- far fewer than the Bruce Jenner/Caitlyn publicity of a few days ago. Yet D-Day shaped so much of the world today. I was sort of disgusted that more attention was not paid to this important anniversary.

More than 9,300 American soldiers died during that invasion.

Here's why it's so important, for those who may be fuzzy on their history: "The Normandy landings have been called the beginning of the end of war in Europe."

D-Day was the turning point of World War II. It was the day that marked the beginning of the end for Hitler and Tojo and Mussolini. If we had not won, the world would be a profoundly different place today, a nightmarish place in my opinion.

Three of my four uncles served in World War II, and all three saw some horrific things that changed them forever. My uncle Lewis was on an island in the Pacific. My uncle Bobby Hasty was in Virginia but his job was to pull bodies out of training planes that crashed, and he saw a lot of death -- at 17 and 18 years old. My uncle Bobby Thompson never really explained to me what he did but he told my brother it was no picnic. All three of my uncles are dead now but if they were sitting here and I asked them this question -- was it worth it? -- I know they would all say YES. They were part of a huge effort that changed the world.

What history teachers so often fail to really emphasize is that the way to teach students about war is to teach them about humans, not dry facts about battles and alliances. War is about people. It's a mosaic of thousands of individual stories.

I just finished the book All the Light We Cannot See, and it is an excellent read, albeit not a "feel good" book. Not a light confection of a book. No, it's substantial. Author Anthony Doerr clearly researched exhaustively the French Resistance, Hitler's training of boy soldiers, gemstones, radios -- so much amazing detail packed into one very rich book.

One thing I loved about it was that it uncovered stories about how civilians handled World War II. There have been so many books and movies about that war, but far less has been written about what it was like to live through the war as an ordinary person in Germany or France, a person dealing with shortages and dangers and bombs.

The stories of how ordinary people dealt with World War II has always been a great fascination of mine.

I remember years ago [1987] watching a movie called Hope and Glory, about English civilians during World War II. Fascinating portrait of a fascinating time in history.

If I was trying to teach a unit about World War II this is a film I would show my students -- well, if they were 6th grade or older -- because it is about the war from a small-scale, from an intimate, human perspective.

I think where History teachers fall short, so often, is they present history as HISTORY -- dry and dull. A recitation of facts. I remember hating history after writing out all the major imports and exports for several countries. All that writing. All those dull facts.

I probably missed my calling. I probably should have taught history. I think I could figure out ways to make it exciting and meaningful for my students, AND make sure they understood the important points. Movies can be a great starting point for discussions.

If I was teaching a unit about World War I the students would see [possibly an edited version of] this movie, In Love and War:

I was talking to one of Michael's teachers not long ago and I pointed out that for most kids in this digital video age, videos and movies and games are great teaching tools. Some heavy, dry history book really can't stand up to a video or movie when it comes to teaching. Kids accustomed to a fast-paced world, a moving image world, are going to get excited about learning when they see stories. We have to modify how we teach.

June 05, 2015

I had my two week post-op checkup yesterday with the regular cardiologist, and it went well. Below is the email I sent my brother:

I followed up with my regular heart doctor today [Dr. S] for the normal 2 weeks post-surgery checkup. Even though I had different cardiologists in the hospital they said I could followup with Dr. S, who I saw today. (His office is 10 minutes from the house, so easier to get to than Northside.)

He checked the incision site today and said it looked fine, and to let the bandages fall off naturally. He listened to my heart. He had reviewed the hospital records and the records from the Pacemaker Clinic visit last week. He reiterated what they said in the hospital, which is that my heart is strong, it's not enlarged, there's no blockages, it's simply an electrical issue causing problems.

He said it's unusual for someone as young as me to need a pacemaker, but not unheard of - he had a patient once who needed one at age 40.

In ten years the battery of the pacemaker will need to be replaced. There will be a warning they will catch at my twice-yearly visit and they will schedule the procedure.

He's a young guy and he likes to explain things, which is unusual and great, but I told him in this instance I don't really want a lot of explanation. He was going into detail about how off-whack my heart was according to the pre-op EKG and I just stopped him. Too Much Information.

He said now the pacemaker is working for me 95% of the time, which is a bit unusual, but OK. He said that may lessen over time, but if not, no biggie. My heart will never fall below 60 beats a minute, thank God.

I don't have to see him again until December and at that time they can check the pacemaker right there in his clinic, which is great.

I had lost 6 lbs. since the last visit. Told him I'm working on losing more, of course. Walking the dog, doing as much as I can each day, etc.